Remember
by Words of Heresy
Summary: Long ago, Thorin and Thranduil wove marriage braids in their hair. SLASH Thorin/ Thranduil


A/N: Written for this prompt :)... jeeze I'm on a roll today, must be something in the water drugging my Thorinduil muse :P

Prompt: Long ago, Thorin and Thranduil wove marriage braids in their hair. Whether this made them engaged, married, or just symbolized extreme love is up to the filler. After Smaug, Thorin left for the Blue Mountains. When he is taken prisoner in Mirkwood, both he and Thranduil notice that the other still has the braids.

It gets Avatarish to the end, I appologize. I watched it last night and some things just stick with you :P

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"I will not ask you again Thorin Oakenshield," hissed Thrnaduil, "what are you doing in my forest?"

"And I will not repeat myself again your highness," Thorin spat the honorific to the floor, "so listen very closely." He bent forward as if to whisper the rest between them, "we were starving and looking for food."

The Elvenking recoiled at being so mocked, a snarl breaking free on his handsome face. And to think what seemed like centuries ago now, their bond was thicker then blood. They had come so close to being united in matrimony by the good grace of Valar. So close to being everything to each other. Yet here they are. Thranduil sighed. A tired elf and his once to be husband, mocking him like some insolent child.

"Where is the rest of your party," he whispered, a note of defeat slipping in that had Legolas look at him in worry.

"I don't know," growled the dwarf, "probably starving in the forest."

"Thorin," Thranduil looked pleadingly at his past paramour, "just tell me where they are and where you are going and I will treat you like guests," he pleaded.

Thorin snarled, "do not attempt to feed me your lies Elvenking. I am well aware of their bitter sweetness, that leave one sicker and hungrier then before."

Thranduil sighed and rubbed his temple, his eyes falling shut when the first dull ache struck.

"As you wish," he said. "Guards take him to the dungeons and give him some food." Then to Thorin he said. "You will stay there until you decide to break your silence, even if it takes a hundred years."

As the first elven guard grabbed the dwarf, Thorin jerked and spun his head to snarl at him. That's when he saw it fly out from behind that dirty mane of hair. A single braid, tied off with three, small beads that caught the light of the room and the eye of the Elvenking.

"Wait!" cried Thranduil and the guard quickly stepped away. Legolas said something but the king couldn't hear a word. He was staring, wide-eyed and terrified at that small string of hair, swinging slowly in front of the dwarf's face.

"No," he hushed and raced down the stairs to fall to his knees in front of Thorin so they were face to face. The dwarf king glared at him with all the fire of a thousand suns, but Thranduil only had eyes for the braid. Finally tearing his eyes away to look imploring at his lover, the elf asked, "why?"

"Why what?" sneered the dwarf. "It is a relic, nothing more. Untie my hands and I will prove to you how little it means to me."

Thranduil gasped and reached back with trembling hands to bring forth a similar braid, with three, small iron beads attached at the bottom, identical to the dwarfs. Thorin knew, they held small Khazdul sigils, inscribed so finely that they could only be seen in a certain light. One held his name, the other Thranduils, the bead in the middle was elven and spoke of eternal love. A love so power it is thought to transcend time and space, and grant Thorin excess into Valinor. Thorin stared at the braid for a long moment, watching the elf roll the fine strand of silver hair between forefinger and thumb.

He wanted to touch that hair, wanted to run his thumb over the finely crafted beads, wanted to break them between his fingers, tear that mocking braid right off the elf's head. How dare he keep it, how dare he!

"It doesn't belong to you anymore," growled the dwarf, "you lost the right to wear it when you lost my heart elf. Now remove it!" he screamed. His eyes glistened. "Remove it! Or mark my word Thranduil, I will cut it from you if it's the last thing I do!"

Suddenly his eyes began to water and before he knew it straight rivers of tears broke froth, only to get lost in the forest that veiled his cheeks. Thranduil for his part looked hard at work suppressing his own emotions. Without Thorin's knowledge, the Elvenking had reached over and grasped the dwarf's promise braid in his elegant fingers, tracing the fine pattern of hair with the his thumb, like it was the most precious thing he'd ever beheld.

"I hate you," swore the dwarf and Thranduil felt an ache in the very heart of his soul.

"I could never hate you," sighed the elf, then softer so only they could hear "oh Valar, we are such fools." He leaned forward so their foreheads could rest against each other. Thorin attempted to jerk away but was stopped by the elf's fine hand on his cheek, holding his head straight.

"I still love you," Thranduil confessed, "and I fear, I always will."

Something broke in Thorin at the sound of those words, something small and silent that had remained hidden inside him since the fall of Erebor. It hid and festered until like a vicious infection, it consumed his heart and rotted his goodwill. He could feel it now, hissing and burning inside him. Dying away in the lost recess of his mind, to be forever expelled from consciousness. For the first time in decades he felt light, he felt clear and most importantly he felt love. Warm and satisfying, like the feel of freshly forged gold. He was ready to heal.

"Thorin?"

The dwarf turned to look at the elf, who had pulled away to regard him with curiosity. That's when he noticed that he was smiling. Or to be more precise, grinning like a mad man and crying like a babe. He laughed and Thranduil looked worriedly to his son who just gave his father the same confused look he's had since the King stopped the guard from taking Thorin.

"I…" Thorin said from between bouts of laughter, "I…see now, I see."

Thranduil looked hesitant, but after a moment asked gently, "what do you see?"

"You," he rasped, his rambunctious laugher having left him hoarse. "I see you _atamanel_"

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**R&R**


End file.
